


Temporal Alterations

by autobotscoutriella



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Gen, Ominous Warnings from the Future, Pre-Metroid Prime I, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autobotscoutriella/pseuds/autobotscoutriella
Summary: A strange phenomenon in space brings Samus Aran face to face with herself.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12
Collections: FandomWeekly (2019-2020) Writing Challenge on Dreamwidth





	Temporal Alterations

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I had an idea for an AU of "Samus never went to Tallon IV and phazon got out into the galaxy before anyone actually knew what was going on". I never actually wrote it, because I've got too many long WIPs as it is, but I did write the part where she goes back in time to warn her past self in an attempt to fix things. Ta-da.
> 
> I originally wrote this for [FandomWeekly](https://fandomweekly.dreamwidth.org/332990.html) prompt "Time Travel".

Her ship's computer described it as a _quantum event_ with no further specification. On the viewscreen, it looked like a cross between a nebula and a wormhole, a swirling vortex of blue and green and gold. It was pretty, and that fact alone made Samus Aran wary. Pretty things had a tendency to be venomous.

She held position and watched, keeping a close eye on even the most insignificant sensors. It didn't seem to be expanding, shrinking, or otherwise traveling through space; scans taken several minutes apart produced the exact same measurements. There was no obvious debris anywhere or any other sign of what might have caused it. It just hung there, a seemingly innocuous swirl of light against a background of star-studded darkness.

She didn't trust it, but it didn't seem to be an obvious threat. Taking full control back from the ship's autopilot, she allowed the ship to drift closer to the quantum event. Small flickers of white light, like softened lightning, pulsed around the center of the vortex, but it otherwise didn't react to her approach.

The ship's computer blipped an All Clear. Samus adjusted her visor to its scan setting and reset the ship's sensors; sometimes her suit's scanner could be more reliable even than the ship it uplinked to.

 _Quantum event of unknown origin_ scrolled across the bottom of her heads-up display. _May cause space-time fluctuations, alterations in the laws of physics, and possible interdimensional activity. Approach with caution._

Interesting.

Samus drew back on the controls, stopping the ship from drifting any closer. Would space-time fluctuations show up on her ship's or suit's sensors? It was impossible to say. Changes in the laws of physics probably would—but she didn't care to get too close to those. Gravitational fluctuations might rip the ship apart, and she didn't fancy testing her suit's upgraded zero-gravity and environmental controls under those conditions.

As if in response to her worries, the ship shuddered slightly, as if being pulled on by some massive force for a single second. Samus locked the ship in place with a quick signal to the computer and checked the sensors again, bracing for a repeat incident. To her relief, the sensors showed her ship hadn't changed position.

 _That's enough of that._ She turned her attention back to the controls, intending to pull the ship back and leave the quantum event alone.

“Wait. We need to talk.”

Samus whirled around, sending two simultaneous signals to the ship to take over piloting and to clear the pilot's chair out of her way as her blaster arm activated. No one could possibly have gotten onto her ship without—

She found herself staring into the visor of her mirror image.

No—on closer inspection, the woman facing her wasn't quite her mirror image. The stranger's suit was battered and scarred, suggesting she hadn't had a chance to perform maintenance in weeks or even months. She had extra components, too, pieces that stood out against the standard Varia suit design. The most eye-catching one, a silver chestpiece that looked vaguely like some kind of Galactic Federation design, pulsed and shimmered with a faint blue glow.

“Who are you?” Samus's voice was hoarse, and not just from long weeks of speaking to no one except the ship.

The stranger raised one hand, clearly indicating that she hadn't drawn her own blaster, and removed her helmet.

Her face was Samus's, but as battered and worn as her suit. Vivid blue veins—the same shade as the light coming from the chestpiece—scarred one side of her face, and the eye on that side glowed an eerie, bloodshot blue. She had a split lip, a gash over one eyebrow, and haunted, dark shadows under both eyes.

“This is a warning.” The stranger's voice was hollow, exhausted, but otherwise an echo of Samus's own, right down to the ragged edge of someone who had not spoken to anyone else in months. “One day soon, you will be offered a mission to face an old enemy. You must accept it, or the consequences will be dire.”

“What are you talking about?” Samus retracted her blaster and took a step forward, only to be stopped in her tracks by her doppelganger's glare.

“I cannot tell you any details. Using a natural phenomenon to affect time is risky as it is. But I can tell you that this mission, the one that I rejected, is the key to keeping an unknown horror from sweeping across the universe. You must succeed where I failed if anyone is to survive.”

Samus looked from the stranger wearing her face back to the quantum event, where lightning pulsed and crackled around the center of the vortex. “You're doing this? You did this?”

“I did not cause it, but I took advantage of it. We don't have time. Please, whether you recognize me or not, whether you remember me or not, remember this.” Her tone took on a note of finality, a death knell for something Samus didn't want to imagine. “Take the mission. Face our oldest enemy. Do what I did not.”

A sensor on the console blared a warning, and Samus reflexively spun to check on it. She had only a second to see the readings before the quantum event rippled like water and the ship's autopilot kicked in, blasting off into space a split-second before the swirling vortex of color imploded and vanished.

When she turned back, her doppelganger was gone. Outside the viewscreen, distant star points twinkled gently, seeming slightly brighter now.

Had it all been a hallucination? Some bizarre out-of-body experience brought on by quantum phenomena?

Samus checked the sensors and ran every scan that was available, until she was satisfied that the ship was undamaged and her suit was functioning at optimum parameters.

 _Take the mission. Face our oldest enemy_.

Real or not, the warning would linger in her mind every time her communications line chimed for the next few months.


End file.
